


Change of Plans

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: Leverage
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 17:11:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5056963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To this day, I'll never understand how it is that she can get past all of my best defenses to the raw woman at the center of it all.  No one's ever done that before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change of Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [commoncomitatus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/commoncomitatus/gifts).



> Thank you to my beta.
> 
> Text solely in _italics_ is text messages.
> 
> Spoilers: Post-series canon divergence that started with Maggie and Sophie's interactions in episode 04x18, "The Last Dam Job".
> 
> More coming...

           _Where are you?_

Glancing up, I smile when my mark is distracted enough that I can fire off a reply.

           _What are you doing? Are you TRYING to get me caught?_

The reply comes fast enough that I can't even put my phone away.

           _Are you trying to say that you're getting soft in your o-- That you're missing your salad days?_

Glaring, I fire off a final reply.

           _You are dead to me now. Goodbye._

Putting my phone back in my purse gives me the opportunity to glance around the room. Where has my mark gone? Damn him for distracting me like that! I'd take it out of his hide, but I think he'd like it too much. Sighing softly, I realize that I'm starting to talk too much like--

"Guess who?" is whispered in my ear as hands cover my eyes.

My initial reaction is to stiffen up, and I do so ever so slightly before I recognize that voice. Despite a thrill of adrenalin racing through my system, I relax back into the warm, steady body behind me.

"Hmm," I say, deciding to play a little bit here. "Is it the Queen Mother?"

"If you're saying I'm old, we're going to have some serious words, Sophie."

That _does_ make me laugh and turn around on my stool to face the exact mark I thought I'd lost. My hands lace together behind her neck as I lean in to kiss her lips. Her hands make their way to my waist as the kiss deepens. If I'm not careful, I'll lose track of my surroundings again. As if sensing my thoughts, she pulls back to rest her forehead against mine.

"Now what on earth had you so distracted that I was able to sneak up on the greatest grifter in the world?"

I stroke her cheek and lean back to meet her curious gaze. "Our mutual ex-husband." That sets off a peal of unrestrained laughter that I can't help but join in on.

"What did he do now?" she asks, settling on the stool next to me. A quick wave of her hand has the bartender making up her usual.

"He distracted me _and_ he called me--" I glance around before leaning in to whisper, " _old_!"

She chokes on her drink -- Okay, maybe I could have timed that better -- but covers it with another laugh. "He should talk! He's no spring chicken himself." One sculpted eyebrow raises as she studies me over the rim of her glass. "He's not overindulging again, is he?"

"He's bored," I reply and take a sip of my wine. "And rather than find something constructive to do, he likes to wreak havoc on our date nights. He even asked where we are."

"Oh no! He is not invading date night _again_."

Two large swallows, and she drains her drink, motioning toward me to do the same. Setting her glass on the bar, she grabs both of our purses and stands up. There's a fire in her eyes that reminds me of why I fell in love with her in the first place. And why he did, too. Shaking off my thoughts, I finish my wine and take her hand as I slip off the stool to my feet. She leads me past the dance floor where couples sway slowly to the music, lit by an old school disco ball, and out of the lounge entirely. As we wander through the lobby toward the elevator banks, I catch a glimpse of our reflection in the mirrored walls. The determination now lining her face is a bigger turn-on than I expect after this long together, but I find that heartening at the same time.

Waiting for the elevator, she pulls her phone from her purse, then dials a number as she hands mine over with a smile. It doesn't take long for the other person to answer. "Hello, Nate," she says with an overly bright tone. "Would you mind telling me why you thought it was okay to distract my wife on our designated date night?" She rolls her eyes at me and mimes talking with her free hand, forcing me to stifle my laughter behind my own. "Really? I thought you were in Atlantic City with Eliot and Hardison this weekend? Oh, Parker wouldn't let them out to play? That's a shame. So you're bored in Atlantic City and thought it would be fun to text my Sophie?" And then she lets out a long, loud laugh that rings in the space around us. "You aren't going to get that until your sixtieth birthday, remember?" As the elevator doors open for us, she smiles and says, "All right, my elevator's here and I need to be on it. Go find a show to see or hit the blackjack table. Just stop trying to get involved in my date night or you won't get your present in another decade or so. Bye, Nate."

I can hear his voice, pleading and cajoling, before she ends the call and steps into the open elevator with me. "The kids don't want him around, do they?"

"I think Parker had something more _intimate_ planned than a weekend of gambling and free food."

"We should introduce him to someone," I reply as she presses the button for our floor and moves closer to me, forcing me back against the wall. "Maybe Hardison can try that dating site again."

The smoldering heat in her eyes burns away any other thoughts I may have about anyone not in this moving elevator. "It's not our fault that Nate was more in love with the idea of being in a relationship than with a specific person. Nor is it our fault that he never even noticed the dynamics between Parker and her boys."

"N-No, it's not," I stammer slightly over my words, unsure what else to say.

"But he's not the focus of tonight's festivities, is he?" She chuckles when I shake my head and lick my lips. Her eyes follow my tongue, her own mirroring its movements. Just the sight of her with such a predatory gaze sends a shiver of desire down my spine. "That's what I thought," she says, then leans in to kiss me.

There's a moan as our lips meet. I have no idea who makes the noise, but I suspect it's me by the way her lips curl up in a smile. I am in the best kind of trouble right now and, as her tongue slips into my mouth, I pray that no one else gets on this damned elevator before we reach our floor. If they do, they'll be in for quite a show. But my Maggie's never been one for blatant, grand PDAs like this. She may have learned a few grifting tricks from me, but she's still far more comfortable honing those skills in private.

By the time the car begins to slow, signaling our floor, she pulls back from the kiss and deftly wipes away any traces of stray lipstick on our faces, then takes my hand. When the door opens, she saunters out like we weren't just making out, pulling me along with her. We make our way to our suite in silence, and my skin is practically crawling with the need for her touch. To this day, I'll never understand how it is that she can get past all of my best defenses to the raw woman at the center of it all. No one's ever done that before.

"All right, Sophie," she says huskily as she opens the door and gestures inside. "I need to make a quick phone call to cancel our dinner reservations and get something delivered instead. I want you naked and in that Jacuzzi by the time I'm done. If you are, you'll get a nice little reward. If you're not, I may have to punish you."

I stumble into the suite, body moving on autopilot as my brain shorts out from her request. No matter what I do, I win in the end. I am the luckiest woman alive right now. Well, Parker may try to steal that title from me, but Maggie won't let her win.

"Get moving, Devereaux," Maggie says, an open palm landing against my rear, making me squeak and laugh nervously.

What _is_ a girl to do?


End file.
